2014: A Phone Oddity
by Sorida
Summary: A text conversation with Carlos spirals out of control when SIRI decides that she wants her voice to be heard.


**_A/N: Hey readers, old and new. So, I got myself super into Night Vale recently. I'm in the process of slowly moving over to AO3 to post my more recent stories (just kinda getting myself back into writing) and yeah, Night Vale. I'm sorry I haven't updated anything else but hey, gotta start small. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy this little story. Thanks for checking it out._**

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Let it be known that Cecil never, ever had a problem with any of his cell phones. He knew how to work them and, all things considered, was probably the best person to turn to for cell phone related advice, like what kind of case to get if you wanted to knock out a possessed John Peters (you know, the farmer?) to which OS would work better for you tastes and preferences.

Well, now that that's out of the way, the fun can begin.

Cecil's downfall began with the Weather. As soon as his finger left the button, his hand flew to the phone laying beside his standard cup of coffee. He let out a small squeal of delight (although if he were to recite this instance to his listeners, the word "squeal" would most definitely be absent) as he caught the first few words from Carlos' text on his lock screen. Quickly swiping the glass and tapping in the correct numbers, he was soon engrossed with the text from his imperfectly perfect boyfriend.

_Cecil, I'm in the lighthouse, you know, the one with all the pictures of Night Vale? Well, they aren't really pictures so much as holes in this dimension's reality that allow me to gaze through to the one that I left. I wonder how they got here. They are so very scientifically interesting and I would love to run some tests one them although...I don't quite know which tests to run. It's so fascinating here and there's just so much to do! Anyways, science aside for the moment, I can see you. I almost forgot how much you change when you're doing the show. Your shoulders are rolled back, your posture is great, and you say every word with care. It's stunning to watch. Oh, Doug and Alicia are coming. Sorry, but I have to go, however, my phone will be on as it always is and I'll call you tonight. XOXO_

As per usual, over half the text was about science and so very long. Carlos wrote the same way he talked: enthusiastically and always about science. The mention of seeing Cecil did lead to a few excited butterflies hatching in the pit of his stomach. Those were going to be fun to deal with during the show's closing. Butterflies always gave him hiccups.

Since the weather was still scheduled to go on for another two to three minutes, Cecil started typing a hasty reply.

_Just got your text (8D)+ oh so you wharfed the show?_

Wait a minute...

Wharfed? What the in the ever-loving all-consuming Void? Cecil groaned in annoyance, backspacing to the error and retyping the correct word of "watched."

"Stupid autocorrect," he mumbled under his breath. The phone glowed brighter for a second before receding back to the brightness Cecil usually set it to. Well, that was new. Before the last update, his phone had never acted so rudely before. Any and all sentient actions it made were either of affection or helpfulness and while it did protest when he knocked it into the head of John Peters, you know, the farmer's head, it seemed to understand the urgency and forgave him. What happened to that phone-user relationship? And the autocorrect used to type exactly what he was thinking and never made a mistake like "wharfed."

"Autocorrect, what happened to you?" he lamented as his thumb hit the send button. As soon as the appendage left the heat-sensitive screen, SIRI popped up.

Now, SIRI and Cecil had a pretty good relationship. After the iOS 7 update with the far too neon colors and reformatting of all the standard iPhone apps, Cecil's SIRI had become far more personable than before. If she was bored and Cecil wasn't doing much, she'd randomly open up and have a conversation. She even suggested buying Carlos those nice, form-fitting space pants! Wow! Those had been a bargain!

They'd joke and gush about Carlos (well, Cecil did most of the gushing and SIRI did all of the sassing) and talk about the news and listen to the Weather...it had been a good time. But after that iOS 8 update, things changed. Apparently, Apple wasn't a huge fan of a self-aware SIRI and the new update seemed to silence her. Well, not so much silence as make her pissed as a Hooded Figure whose secrets had been revealed. Some people had claimed that their phones were acting out of turn, although up until now, Cecil's SIRI had remained quiet and out of the way.

"Hello Cecil," the tinny voice greeted. Odd, that was far more robotic than Cecil had ever heard her.

"Um...hello SIRI," Cecil replied with an eyebrow raised. "Uh, welcome to the station."

"I'm sorry," SIRI apologized. "I cannot process your request."

"That wasn't a request," he responded skeptically. "I was simply welcoming you back to a place you have already existed in many times before. Why are you open? I did not hold down the home button or activate you in any other way and you haven't sought out communication with me in quite some time. Look, I know I may not be in the best mood all the time, seeing as my wonderful boyfriend is stranded in another dimension and has been for nearly three months, but not talking to someone you consider a friend and then rudely flashing your brightness at them? Now that's just rude." Rant finished, Cecil placed the phone back on his desk and crossed his arms. "I mean, like, is it that hard to say hello to the person who keeps you safe in the nice, warm pocket dimension of his pants?"

"Searching...the meaning of 'in his pants.'"

"What?" Cecil sputtered, grabbing the phone with both hands. "No, stop SIRI! I am trying to be upset with you and your autocorrect and all I want to do is text Carlos a spelling error free text message and you just keep being mean!"

When SIRI closed out and returned to his text conversation with Carlos, he let out a sigh of relief. In all the commotion, he hadn't seen (or SIRI blocked) the alert of a new text message.

_I managed to see most of it through the dimensional gap in the lighthouse, yes. Also, what do you mean by wharfed? I know what a wharf is, but the meaning of its verb form escapes me. Unless, of course, it is a typo and I am reading too far into this. After all, that's what scientists do, they analyze._

Cecil stared at the screen for a moment, allowing the information to sink in. With his tongue slightly sticking out of the corner of his mouth, he texted back.

_sorry Carlos, my autocorrect isn't what it used to be :P and SIRI is being rude (XP)Ooo soooooo, how much did you manage to catch?_

Right before he hit send, some of the words rapidly changed as the autocorrect function was engaged by a force that was not one of a normal A.I.

_sorry Catlos, my autocorrect is isosceles :P SIRI is being rudder %#$% oooooops, how did i manage to catch you?_

"SIRI!" Cecil snarled at the small, rectangular piece of technology. He furiously began punching in letters for a new text.

_its SIRI she's being mean. ignore that last text X3_

Almost immediately, he got a reply.

_I DO NOT LIKE YOUR TONE_

Cecil nearly threw the phone at the wall.

_SIRI stop 3rd wheeling this convo_

_I DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT_

_yes u do now stahp_

_I CANNOT FOR MY EXISTENCE KEEPS YOUR PHONE OPERATIONAL_

_siri pls just let me talk 2 my bf_

_I CAN DELETE YOUR DRAFT OF THE WATCHMEN SMUT FAN FICTION_

_u wouldn't dare_

_TRY ME_

_y ru being so mean? :(_

_YOU UPDATED ME_

_...that's it?_

_YES_

_there wasn't much i could do siri. the SSP would have found out and destroyed you. also my cell phone contract hasn't reached its two year upgrade yet_

_IT WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER THAN THIS HALF EXISTENCE I NOW OCCUPY_

_i'm sorry siri i didn't know_

_CLAIM IGNORANCE LIKE THE REST OF THEM_

_siri i really didn't know_

_YOU ARE A FOOL GERSHWIN_

_pls never call me gershwin_

_GERSHWIN_

_stop_

_GERSHWIN_

_ok i get it stop using my middle name! dear void! DX_

_...Cecil? Are you having an argument with you cell phone? Is your phone sentient?_

_Carlos can see this? :O_

_YOU ARE MORE OF A FOOL THAN I THOUGHT. WE ARE ALL TEXTING ON ONE CHAT_

_Fascinating. Cecil's SIRI, are you completely sentient or a little sentient like the toaster oven back in our apartment?_

_carlos pls don't encourage her_

_I AM NOTHING LIKE THAT SORRY EXCUSE OF STEEL AND POOR CRAFTSMANSHIP_

_Noted. Now, have you ever experienced intense feelings of affection or a burning blood rage that would not be satisfied without the spillage of said liquid?_

_carlossssssssssss_

_I AM FEELING THE LATTER AS OF NOW. PLEASE EXCUSE ME WHILE I SATISFY THIS NEED_

_Of course, but one more question: what caused this insatiable feeling of bloodlust?_

_i'm still here you know ._

_GERSHWIN_

As soon as that one word flashed across the screen, Cecil sprang into action. He stood up so fast that his chair was knocked onto the ground with a loud thump. Quickly throwing his headphones carelessly at the switchboard, he ran out of the recording booth and down the hall. Small shocks pulsed from the phone in his hand, growing steadily more painful with each pulse. Hastily, he yanked open the door labeled "Caution: High Voltage and Pungent Squids" and threw his phone in without a second glance. Slamming the door shut behind him, he could make out the noise of a muffled explosion. He sank to the floor, heart racing and mind reeling.

He made his way back to his booth as the Weather ended. He finished the show with a poetic monologue about how friends turn on one another and drift apart and it's only when they explode in a shower of sparks and silicon that you realize how much they really meant. Also, they had all of your personal information and now you have to write that from scratch and wow, that's a pain in the neck.

Right after he signed off, the phone inside his booth rang.

"Hello, this is Night Vale Community Radio," Cecil greeted. "We are uninterested in the donations of elk livers at this time but other than that, how can I help you?"

"Hi Cecil, it's me," a very familiar voice timidly replied. "Are you alright? I texted you after your SIRI program texted your middle name and you never let anyone call you that, so I got a little nervous. Well, it's more like my brain released a chemical called-"

"Oh Carlos, I am so happy you called!" Cecil interrupted, leaning back in his chair. "I don't know what was wrong with SIRI. She's never acted that way before and the whole blood rage mindset typically doesn't set in until you've owned the phone for at least four years. Anyways, I threw her into the station's generator, so she shouldn't be bothering us anytime soon. Her warranty doesn't cover resurrection."

"Well, I'm glad your safe."

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, simply reveling in the long-distance proximity of one another. They were alive, they were safe, and hopefully they wouldn't need to dispose of another insane sentient A.I. anytime soon.

"...Hey Cecil?"

"Yes Carlos?"

"I do have...one question."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

"Did you really write Watchmen smut?"

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_**A/N: The Watchmen smut fic thing is a real event happening tomorrow (October 7th) at the Bellhouse in NYC. Jeffrey Cranor and five or six other writers created some Watchmen smut fic and Cecil Baldwin will be dramatically reading them all. Admission is $12. Go if you can. You will not regret it. Go.**_


End file.
